Soul Eater's Lemon Tree
by Tonight-is-frightnight
Summary: I present a never ending collection of drabbles, oneshots, and plot bunnies—all revolving around our favorite soul eater couple: Soul and Maka. Every story ranges from super lemony to mild lemon/lime. Always complete.
1. Chapter 1 Dinner Mine

_**Dinner (Mine)**_

"Hey, Soul."

Shit.

"Yeah, Maka?" Soul asked, forcing himself to keep his eyes glued to the television screen. He couldn't afford to look at her lately, fearing he wouldn't be able to control himself.

"What do you want for dinner?"

_You_

"Nothing," He sighed, ignoring the more animalistic side of him that always seemed to want to take her against the nearest wall these days.

"Nothing?" Maka asked, disbelievingly. She strolled over to him, turning her back to the refrigerator and letting it swing itself shut. Soul looked up, only to see her sitting on the couch beside him. He gulped. Her scent washed over him like a tidal wave and he could feel himself drowning. "Soul, are you feeling okay?" She asked, placing a concerned hand on his forehead, His whole body tensing at her touch. Dammit, he shouldn't be reacting this way. He was nineteen for fuck's sake. Regardless of the now-eighteen year-old Maka's sudden shapely form, he shouldn't be acting like some horny kid.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Soul said quietly.

Maka felt him tense and his soul wavelength quiver at her hand on his forehead. She frowned and leaned in. He was lying. "If you're fine, then what do you want to eat?"

Soul gasped at her sudden proximity. Her scent was so strong now, he had to fight to keep his eyes from rolling back into his skull. His mouth watered as he stared at her neck, the succulent column of milky flesh calling out to him like a siren. His eyes raked up and down her form as she sprawled lazily on the couch, waiting patiently for his answer. Her arm was thrown up over her head, her body twisted so that she could play with one of her own pigtails while she stared at him intently, green eyes boring into his crimson ones.

"Soul. Tell me now."

Soul could tell that she was getting impatient and he wasn't about to test her. Fine. If she wanted him to tell her what he wanted to eat, he would tell her. He wasn't going to hold back anymore, it was too exhausting. And dear _God, _he wanted her so _badly._

He took her hand from above her head and dragged it down. Still holding onto that hand, he wrenched her toward him until his hot mouth was right by her ear. She squealed when she collided with his sculpted, t-shirt covered chest. He ran his tongue along the sensitive shell of her ear, purring in delight when a very palpable shiver ran through her.

"Soul, what on earth are you-" She tried, but was cut short by his mouth on hers. Their lips parted almost instantly, marked by a mutual moan passing between the two of them.

"You wanted me to tell you what you wanted for dinner, right?" He said, voice husky, marked by a masculine growl of pleasure that instantly shot hot pleasure into her abdomen. He ran his hand down her back until it cupped her ass, then he hoisted her onto his lap, positioning her over his already hardening dick. She gasped as she felt the hot steel press against her core. He nibbled on her neck, sending shivers down her spine and eliciting whimpers from her lips every time his too-sharp teeth nicked her porcelain skin. Every little sound she made shot straight to his groin, and soon, Soul had gained the courage he need to finally say, "I want you, Maka. And I'm sure it'll be quite a delicious meal." He accentuated his words by dragging her bottom lip into his mouth and sucking fiercely.

Maka gasped at his words, unconsciously grinding herself into him. He grunted. She continued to grind against him, all too happy to comply with his request for dinner. Soul struggled to maintain control. It just wasn't cool for a guy to lose dominance to the woman he had effectively seduced in the first place, but he'd be damned if she wasn't _fantastic_ at domination. Every swivel of her hips shredded at his control until finally, his head fell back on to the couch's armrest in defeat. He arched his back and hissed as she ran her tongue from his collarbone to just beneath his chin.

"D-dammit, Maka," He snarled, bucking his hips up sharply and catching her off-guard. She let out a little noise and proceeded to rip his shirt over his head. Following suit, Soul ripped off hers as well and soon, they were both lying naked on the couch save for their underwear.

"So…Soul," She whined, grinding circles against him. She looked down at the young man beneath her, noting the way his mouth parted, sharp teeth glistening with every pant he mad. She looked at the way his eyes were clouded over in senseless lust. She gave one final swivel of her hips and Soul roared his anger. He was so close to coming apart and he still hadn't even had the main dish.

"Onto the next course?" He wheezed, yanking her panties off of her and tossing them aside.

"Absolutely," She moaned, yanking his boxers down until his fully erect member stood waiting for her.

Soul pulled her above him and looked into her eyes, seeing only excitement and anticipation. "Mine," He hissed, grabbing onto her hips and plunging her onto him in one swift movement. He had broken through her virginity quickly in hopes of easing the pain, and it had, but he could still see the discomfort on her face. He was hit with blinding pleasure and the sheer _tightness_ wrapping and squeezing his cock in all the right ways.

"Move," she growled.

Soul knew he wouldn't last long. "Fuck…Maka…_I can't_…I won't…I won't last long."

"Move! I'm yours, remember?"

Soul couldn't help himself. He smashed his mouth against hers, letting her swallow his scream as he pounded furiously within her. "Mine, mine, mine, mine!" He snarled, sinking his teeth into her neck.

The sheer force of his thrusts sent her over the edge, clamping her slick walls around him. He roared his release as she collapsed on top of him.

"Mine." He whispered.

"Yours," She whispered back.


	2. Chapter 2 Tears

_(A/N: I've decided I like an angry soul, but I also really enjoy making him cry. So, I've reached a Soul-lution (LOL OMG I'M SO PUNNY) and decided to make this into a two-shot where he cries and THEN gets angry. Enjoy, and thanks for the reviews!)_

_**Tears**_

Why had she done that? Maka had just rushed in for an attack, flinging him around in a wide arc to slice their keishan target into a million pieces. He had screamed in protest, _begging_ her to stop and think. But she had ignored, of course. She had jumped up in the air, apparently seeing some opening in the keishan's defense that Soul could not detect. Out of fear and anger he screamed again, shouting at her to stop and think about it, but apparently his gut was right.

The keishan, grinning a smug, toothy grin that disturbingly reminded Soul of his own smile, swung his arm through the air and smacking Maka out of the air like a bothersome fly. Soul had screamed once more, but this time, it was a scream of anguish as he was flung from his meister's hands. he hit the ground with a clatter that rattled his brains, but he got back up again. He transformed in a flash of light, already in sprinting towards Maka's limp form atop a pile of rubble. She was bleeding profusely, cuts and already-blooming bruises painting her pale skin with red blood.

Soul choked back a sob.

There were no words to describe his anger, nor were there words for his utter anguish.

Maka awoke to Soul crying heart-wrenching sobs by her bedside. Honestly, it was the weirdest thing she had ever awoken to, but the odd situation failed to alter her immediate concern. She tried to reach out a hand and touch his head to let him know she was awake, but pain immediately shot through her extended arm and radiated throughout her entire body.

Soul looked up at her, shot back into reality by her hiss of pain. He was still sobbing, tears painting his dirty cheeks. He still hadn't cleaned himself up from their battle.

"Hey, soul? You okay?"

"No," He said in a monotone, tears still streaming down his face.

"How long was I out?"

"A few days."

There was an awkward silence. Maka felt guilty. She was so sure that there had been an opening in that keishan's defense, but obviously, she had been wrong.

"Hey, Maka?"

"Yes?" Maka said softly, shocked that Soul had actually initiated conversation. She had only seen him cry once and she knew that he was seriously distressed when he cried.

"Don't ever fucking do that again."

_(A/N: Sorry this is so short, and I'm sorry this is not a lemon. However, it is part of a sort of two-shot thing I've got going. There will be a new chapter and it SHALL be a lemon, whether it is part of this two shot or not.)_


	3. Chapter 3 His

(A/N: I feel guilty for uploading such a short chapter earlier, so I decided to upload this crack fic. As you can see, it's a lemon like a promised. If you don't know the song mention, you can look up the entire song. No seriously. Look it up, it's hilarious. Enjoy!)

His

(based off of I want your bite by Chris Crocker)

It's...not about romance. It's about...what's in your pants.

Oh, but it was about romance. She was sure she loved him. Every little thing he did was just so earth-shattering and fantastic. But, who was she kidding? She wanted him. Every part of him was just so delicious and she just wasn't sure how much longer she could take it. But he was touching her right now and that was really all she could process at the moment.

I want your bite

Wanna feel your teeth on my neck

Wanna taste the salt of your sweat

Gonna rock your body all night

It's lust at first sight

And now his hand was thrust between her legs, dexterous pianist fingers working between her slick folds with the same skill she had always imagined he would have. And oh, those perfect lips were kissing her and she could feel his teeth on her lips...but fuck his teeth.

"Ah...Soul," she whined, grinding her hips into his hand. He grunted, the sound sending

shock waves through her already aroused body.

"Hmmm?" He murmured against her lips, his tongue tracing circles in her mouth,

preventing her from speaking again.

She pulled away with a gasp as she struggled to say her next words before his mouth

latched onto hers once again. "Soul...Bite me...bite me hard," she cooed, seashell lips parted in unabashed panting. She finished her request by trailing her tongue up his neck, tasting every flavor of sweat that had gathered there.

Poor soul thought he might have a heart attack. He could feel his dick twitch in his pants

as he struggled to maintain his cool smirk. "Whatever you say, Maka," He smirked, internally ecstatic for managing to keep it together.

Before she could prepare herself, his teeth were on her neck and she was shuddering with delight. Soul on the other hand, nearly came in his pants at the taste of her.

The way you're making me hot

Don't stop, you're hitting the spot

Gonna rock your body all night

It's lust at first sight.

And before either of them had registered what was happening, he was inside of her,

punctuating every thrust with a nibble at her skin, marring the rosy flesh with red, splotchy marks, signs that she was his. Maka could barely restrain the whimpers and screams of pleasure as he rocked his hips into her, filling her up completely before pulling back in only to ram back inside.

Soul was in ecstasy, her strong, toned legs were wrapped around his waist and he was

railing into her like he'd dreamed of doing for years.

"Soul!" She screamed, throwing her head back onto his pillow. His pillow. He bit her one

final time, noticing with great satisfaction how her rosy, soaked flesh clenched tightly around him in a series of spasmodic twitches. She had shattered in his arms, all because of a bite. And it was his bite that she craved and it was his arms she had let go in.

His.

(A/N: I'm sure I'll get around to part two of the tears collection, but for now...any suggestions? Any kinks or prompts you horny kids want to see played out in the SoKa universe? :p if you have any suggestions, you can leave a review if you'd like, or perhaps PM me if you're too embarrassed. ;3 Thanks again!)


	4. Chapter 4 Lickable

_**Lickable**_

Damn her. Damn her and that silky smooth skin of hers. Damn the way she came out of the shower dripping, wrapped in a towel and strolling down the hall like he wasn't even there. Damn her for being such a fucking cock-tease with her short little school-girl skirt and her long creamy legs. There seemed to be no end to her. Everywhere Soul turned, she was there.

_Bending over to get something she had dropped._

_Walking around in only a tank top and underwear like she just didn't give a fuck._

_Stretching and arching her back in the most delicious way._

_Making disturbingly sexy noises of frustration when she was losing at video games._

There was just no end.

But, for some reason, Soul found her skin the most attractive when it was covered in blood. He knew it was creepy and he knew it was odd, but then again, it couldn't be any less healthy than getting a tad turned on by Maka-chops. Now, don't misunderstand. He hated it when she was hurt. But there was just something about the way she looked, splashed in the blood of her enemies, the crimson dripping over her porcelain skin in little rivulets that never failed to make his spine tingle.

How could she never fail to always look so fucking lickable when that sweet-smelling, burgundy liquid slid along her skin like Soul sometimes dreamed his tongue might do? It wasn't even fair. Especially just how fucking ecstatic she seemed when she realized that she was covered in blood. She always gripped him with a new force once the warm liquid splashed over her. She always swung him around with a new ferocity, using him to strike down her enemies and cover herself in even more blood. And he was left bending to her will, struggling desperately not to transform back into his human form and just lick all of that blood from her delicious skin.

Back in the apartment, after some random mission that Soul couldn't remember even if it was to save his life, Maka set down her bag and began shedding her clothes until she was only in her collared shirt and underwear. She tugged her hair from her pigtails, sandy blond hair tumbling over thin shoulders, and waltzed into the bathroom. Soul had subconsciously followed her and stood in the doorway, watching her splash cold water in her face. Blood dripped into the sink as she cleaned herself.

"Some battle, huh?" She chuckled, reaching for a towel.

He handed it to her with a grunt of acknowledgement. All he was concentrating on right now was a speck of blood on her neck that she had missed. He couldn't even develop coherent language. She stretched, suddenly, arching her back and standing on her toes, her small, but noticeable breasts bushing against the cotton of her shirt. "Man, I'm beat," She groaned.

_Aw, fuck it. _He thought, his last speck of control shredded away the moment he heard that little moan.

In a lightning fast move, he wrapped his hand around her wrist and dragged her to him. She let out a squeal of shock and protest that quickly turned into a startled mewl as his lips latched onto the streak of partially dried blood on her neck. He could taste it. The coppery crimson meshed perfectly with the sweet taste of her creamy skin. He groaned in her ear at the taste, reaching up boldly to squeeze her breasts through her shirt. She moaned again, grabbing hold of the front of his shirt. "S-Soul? What—" She tried, but she couldn't finish because his mouth had just latched onto hers in a ravenous kiss. His body, heavy and demanding had trapped her against the sink, kissing her savagely, his sharp teeth nipping at her lips and skin.

She was dying. She could already feel his length between her legs, throbbing like his erratically beating heart against her core. It was like hot steel wrapped in the denim of his jeans. Desperate to feel more of him, she tore open his pants with her surprisingly strong little hands. She wrapped her hands around him and pumped him furiously over his boxers. He snarled at her, choosing to bury his teeth in her neck. Blood blossomed where he had bit her and he licked that away too, moaning loudly at the taste on his hungry tongue. She panted in his ear as his hand reached between his legs and invaded the safety of her panties, calloused pianist fingers sinking into her needy core in one abrupt movement. She cried out at the sudden, but welcome intrusion, rocking her hips against his hand.

"Soul, dammit, no more playing around!" She hissed at him, squeezing his pulsing member for effect.

He grunted in pleasure at the action, but still kept his lust-clouded gaze on her. "All right, Maka. Just cause you asked so nicely," He said, voice deep and husky. And with that, he tore through her skirt and underwear, ripping them from her body and throwing them away. She gasped as he spun her around and bent her over the sink. He ripped off her shirt and bra as well, leaving her naked on the sink, still covered in streaks of blood that he had missed. "Maka, I'm gonna fuck you so _hard_," He moaned, looking at the blood on her back. She moaned at his words. "Do it Soul!" She whimpered.

He could only oblige. He pulled himself free from his boxers and rammed into her in one fluid motion. She cried out again, arching her back as pleasure shot through her. His hips pistoned within her, drawing moan after moan from her lips as he licked away the blood on her back. Every drag of his tongue sent shivers up her spine and brought her closer to her release.

Soul pumped into her faster and faster, satiating his desire to just pump into her like there was no tomorrow. She was just so damn _tight_. He'd never felt anything _tighter_. Finally, in a sudden shriek of pleasure, he felt her walls clamp desperately around his dick. Soul, overwhelmed by the feeling, released himself inside her.

"Maka…"

"Yeah?" She gasped in reply.

"I love you, y'know?"

"I know."

_(A/N: All right, there you are! An update. I'm still working on the companion to Tears and on top of that, I actually got a request for another oneshot! YAAAYYY! I'm still taking requests if you're interested!)_


	5. Chapter 5 Fury

(A/N: The continuation to _**Tears**_—Finally)

_**Fury**_

When Soul and Maka finally returned home from the hospital, Maka had healed up nicely. She was still a little sore, but things like that couldn't be helped. When Soul drove her home on his motorcycle, Maka hugged him close, remembering how intensely he had cried. She loved him—much like she always had—and therefore never wanted to see him in such a sorrowful state. He drove her back to their shared apartment without saying a word, making Maka's spine tingle with terrible anticipation. She was almost afraid to deal with him when they got through the door. She knew him enough to realize that every time he cried, there was always a "Calm Before the Storm", so to speak. After he cried, Soul would always be calm, collected, silent and seemingly right as rain. But then, he would sometimes release a torrent of fury that only Maka seemed to be able to calm. But now that she was the source of that fury, she wasn't so sure she could stop him.

They arrived at the apartment, Soul helping her from the bike in an uncharacteristically gentle fashion that only seemed foreboding to poor Maka. They walked up the staircase to their apartment door, unlocking it while still remaining completely silent. As soon as they had stepped through the door and Soul had locked it behind them, Maka spouted the words that she couldn't keep to herself, "I'm sorry," She blurted out. Soul whirled on her as soon as she said those words, He grabbed hold of her and threw her up against the wall in such a rough fashion, she felt her vision rattle. He was glaring at her when her eyes stopped bouncing in her skull, his teeth bared, a snarl ripping from his throat.

"Don't even say it!" He hissed, hands squeezing her arms fiercely. She whimpered in his arms. "Maka, do you even know how worried I was?" He growled. "I wanted to be on that bed instead of you! Don't you understand? IF YOU DIE, I WANT TO DIE TOO!" He roared the last sentence, shocking Maka to no end.

The both of them stood there without uttering a word, Soul panting with exhaustion from his confession. Then suddenly, when Maka opened her mouth to see if he was okay, he crashed a pair of hungry lips against her. Maka squealed in shock, struggling against his as his sharp teeth worried her lower lip, drawing it into his mouth and therefore gaining access to her oral cavity, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. "I…thought…I was g-gonna lose you!" He shouted between kisses, more tears streaming down his cheeks.

Maka, lost for words, struggled to breath against his abusive lips. On one hand, she was kissing the man she loved, on the other hand, he was beyond coherent thoughts, instead choosing to sob loudly as he kissed her. Those heart wrenching sobs pulled at her heart strings. _If this is what he needs,_ she thought, _then, I'll give it to him._

The moment she began to kiss him back, Soul retaliated with ravenous hunger, moving his mouth down her neck, biting and nipping as hard as he could without taking chunks out of her flesh. Almost every prick of his sharp teeth drew blood from her skin, but Maka only found that it turned her on even more.

"Maka, I'm going to take you now," He hissed against her skin, unbuttoning his pants as he said the words.

Maka, reluctant, but wanting to help Soul in any way she could, only drag aside her panties from under her skirt as he pushed inside her in one fluid movement. She was a virgin, but the pain of losing it in one motion only brought her closer to the peak of her pleasure. The fact that no foreplay seemed to be involved in this one punishment for her recklessness seemed to make her even wetter.

"This is my punishment Maka. For making me cry. I hope you feel the pain that I felt when I watched you bleed like that," He moaned into her, everyone of his thrusts hitting her hard and fast. Little moans and whimpers escaped her, pain morphing into pleasure as she hurtled toward her release.

"Soul," She cooed, "I'm hurting!"

"Good," He snarled, his thrusts increasing in speed and force.

"It hurts so _good_!" She cried.

He growled his approval, hips jerking out of control as he neared his own orgasm.

"_Harder_," She crooned, pistoning her hips against his.

"_Fuck_" He moaned, feeling her walls clench around him as she came. He released himself into her almost at once, punctuating his orgasm with one fierce thrust, penetrating her at a level he thought only existed in dreams.

"I'm Sorry Soul," She sobbed, both from pleasure and pain.

"You better be," He snarled, dragging her away from the wall towards his bedroom, apparently for another round.

_(A/N: Okay, sorry I haven't updated in a while. I was really busy studying for exams. Also sorry, there isn't any real foreplay. Soul is angry and he gets mean when he's angry, LOL. Also, for those who are wonder, my next mission is sex with soul in scythe form, and a genderbent lemon. Both are requests. Happy reading. :D_

_Much love, Lady Fright Night)_


	6. Chapter 6 Kink

Kink

Ugh. That was the third time this week. She had no idea how many times that dream had occurred over the span of their relationship together. But really, it needed to stop.

Maka and Soul had been together for a few years, but they had been partners for much longer than that. They had had sex already, and that was something that Maka never made a big deal about. She was a practical girl and sex had always been something she was curious about—something that she accepted as a biological and emotional urge one got while being around someone they cared for on an intimate, sexual level.

Their first time was as awkward as it was funny, but Maka had come to terms with the fact that virgins, because of their lack of experience, were bound to do...well, poorly in the sex-department. But they got better and they got better together. Oh boy, did they get better.

But that was a different matter entirely. This. This was ridiculous.

The dream always started the same. She was flying, using her Grigori powers to amplify their wavelength and get them to fly. She always knew what was going to happen and sometimes, that just made it worse. Thank goodness they still slept in different rooms (though, really, the dreams she had were the reason she didn't sleep regularly in his bed. How awkward would that be? having erotic dreams in front of your partner? pretty awkward, regardless of their relationship).

Always the same. She always got that wonderful tingling in her gut, the one that made her toes curl. And somehow, it just increased her awareness of Soul's scythe staff between her legs as she rode him to wherever the fuck it was they were going. It always went on like that, sometimes the dream continued, sometimes it didn't.

But when the dream did continue, Soul always said—in that husky voice she could never resist, "How does it feel, Maka? How does it feel to ride me?"

"Goo-ood" She always said, the words wrenched from her mouth by unbearable pleasure. And then, somehow, they always ended up on the ground, Maka on her knees as she ground herself furiously against the shaft of his scythe form. Always, always proceeding to have sex with an inanimate form of her boyfriend. It felt so good, but she knew it was a little disgusting. She wasn't used to such kink plaguing her brain.

Little did Maka know however, that she wasn't the only one who was a sexual deviant...

So, as usual, Soul woke up with a start. Cold sweat covering his skin, sticky cum covering his sheets and thighs because he always, always came in that dream, and as usual, he was secretly glad that he and Maka still didn't share a bed (but a part of him was still pouting like a beat puppy). He hated himself. Maka wasn't the kind of girl to even entertain scythe-sex thoughts and Soul wasn't the kind of guy that forced his kinks on his girlfriend. Because, oh, he certainly had a lot of them.

He wasn't really sure why he was aroused by the thought of fucking his meister's tight pussy with his scythe-handle. But he was. He wasn't berating himself for being aroused whenever he was between her legs as they flew toward's their mission destinations. He could certainly feel things while in scythe form and he certainly felt his meister's burning core on top of him when they flew. Oh, fuck, it was distracting. Especially since flying required both partner's devoted attention.

With an angry grunt, Soul rose from his bed and gathered his soiled sheets. He tossed them under his bed—to be cleaned later when he was sure his meister would not discover them—and trooped off to the shower to scrub off the smell of sweat and cum that even he could detect was dripping from his skin, both literally and figuratively.

But poor Soul's problems were only beginning. Because...Blaire was being uncharacteristically perceptive as of late. But, fortunately for the poor, horny death scythe, Maka was the first to get a taste of the magical cat's sixth sense.

"Nyaah~ Maka-Cha~n," The purple cat cooed from her spot on Maka's desk chair. Maka uttered a grunt of acknowledgement, not looking up from her book as she lounged on her bed. She had woken up a long time ago, for the dream had plagued her again. Both girl and cat ignored the sound of what was certainly Soul trudging off to take a shower. The squeak of a faucet and the sound of running water carried throughout the apartment as the cat meowed loudly in anger, snapping Maka's head away from her book.

"What, Blaire," Maka sighed, still holding her book, but nevertheless giving the cat her undivided attention.

"Did you guys know you resonate in your sleep?" The cat said nonchalantly, critically examining a manicured claw.

"Huh? Now why would we do that?" Maka asked, confused.

"Well, nyah~ it seems that you two are experiencing the same emotions at the same time...What were you dreaming about last night? Maybe Soul was having the same dream, nyah~."

Maka froze. Well, shit. Perhaps Soul had found out about her kink and now, he hated her. But then, Maka calmed down and remembered the principles of soul resonance. Meister and weapon had to be completely in tune. If Soul felt any disgust at the dream, any at all, then they wouldn't have resonated. They could only resonate if Soul was feeling the same, agonizing lust that she was. And if he wanted it just as much as she did, then maybe these dreams would stop.

And so, devious little scythe-meister, Maka Albarn, concocted a plan.

Soul perhaps had expected a meal on the table when he got home. Well, at the very least he had expected to come home to his meister so that he could cook for her. He was still crappy at remembering when it was his turn to cook.

Yes, well anyway, he had expected his meister. But instead, what he got was a very perverted, and very arousing substitute. She was back in her old uniform, the one they had worn near the beginning of their partnership, the one that Soul still fantasized about because school-girl-cosplay was also part of his repertoire of sexual deviancy. He blamed her for that.

But, this version of her old uniform was very different, and yet somehow the same. That skirt was so, so, so much shorter. The top buttons of her blouse were undone, as well as her tie, which hung limp around her neck. Her vest, a couple sizes too small, was making her stillsmallbutstillreallyperk y breasts look utterly delicious. She was missing her coat, but Soul honestly didn't mind.

"Wh-who are you?" He croaked, dropping his bag on the floor.

She snorted, an action that was so undeniably Maka that he felt...comforted. "Well, Soul Eater, Who do you think I am?"

"Well, I hope you're some sort of apparition. Because...I've had dreams like this before. And if y-you're the real Maka and you found out, then...then..." He made a chopping motion with his hand, hoping to make his point—He dreaded the Maka-Chop. The only really danger to him.

She laughed then. And it sounded so clear that Soul immediately knew that he wasn't dreaming. He immediately felt dread along with a prominent jump in his arousal because this was real and it was happening. "Of course, I'm the real Maka," She grinned, walking closer to him with a sashay of her hips. "But Soul, I...I wanna try something."

He looked at her dumbly and she continued. "Can you turn into a scythe for me?"

OH MY FUCKING GOD THIS CAN'T REALLY BE HAPPENING.

Oh yes, Souly-kun. It is indeed happening.

With a shaky sigh, Soul transformed into a scythe and landed in her outstretched hands. It was a comforting weight and Maka sighed. Both pleasure and comfort floated through her system.

Soul waited with bated breath.

And then, like a silky trail of hot arousal, her tongue glided up the shaft of his scythe form and Soul nearly exploded with pleasure. It was just as good as her licking his cock, if not better. But the fact that this was his handle and not his dick just made the experience that much more stimulating. "Soul~" She cooed, beginning to stroke his shaft intimately. A wavering growly moan penetrated the air. "Don't you dare change back," She said said.

And then suddenly he was in her mouth. She couldn't take much of him in, for the scythe handle wasn't known for its flexibility. But she could form a suction on the end of him, and that was just fine with Soul. He gave a strangled gasp. The blade of the scythe gleamed as meister and weapon collapsed to the floor, his pole shifting between her legs as she continued to gently suckle him. The blade shimmered until Soul's face appeared on it, beet red and gasping. She could see his crimson eyes drooping low with clouded lust. She giggled then, and gave a particularly hard suck. Soul grunted loudly, his face in the scythe blade baring its teeth in pleasure, his eyes now wide in shock.

"Maka," Soul gasped as she began to lightly grind herself against him while still sucking his end, showing the remarkable flexibility that she was famous for. "How does it feel, Maka? How does it feel to ride me?" He panted as she groaned and pistoned her hips faster against him.

"Goo-ood," She whimpered. It was in replay. She was having the dream again, except it was really life and they were on the living room floor (a place they had frequented many times in their desperation to have each other before the got to a bed).

She was on her knees now, his shaft gliding along her still panty-covered mound. "Maka. Take those off before I rip 'em off," Soul growled menacingly.

Maka dropped him with a clatter, but Soul didn't mind because the next minute she was taking off her underwear and he had a perfect view of her glistening slit. She picked him up, her fists gripping him with the strength he had always dreamt about, and began to drag his shaft along her dripping folds.

"Oh fuck," She gasped when his pole squeaked over her clit. Soul felt the responsive twitching of her flesh and moaned loudly. He needed this. He needed her.

"Maka. I need you now," He groaned.

She nodded furiously in assent and began to lie down. She lifted her legs so that her dripping pussy was on display, and then...she guided his handle towards her center. He breached her and they shared a moan and a whimper. She began to flex her arms, thrusting him in and out of her, bringing him to the deepest point within herself, and then nearly all the way out. Soul grunted with each thrust, his voice joining hers as she pumped him within herself.

"Soouul," She whined suddenly. "I can't anymore. Too much..."

It was finally time for Soul to do some work. He transformed, pulling out of her in the process. But, he lunged back into her in one fluid motion, making her cry out happily. He latched his mouth onto hers, greedily plundering the slick orifice with his tongue as he slammed his hips roughly against hers.

Soul was elated. Two kinks in one. He had been inside Maka while in scythe form, and now he was fucking—Not making love to—fucking schoolgirl Maka. The fact that all of these kinks had been initiated by herself just made it that much better.

"Ahhh, Soul! I'm gonna...I'm...I'm coming!" She cried loudly as she exploded into twitching flesh around his cock, trying to finish him off as well. But he would have none of it.

As soon as she came down from her high, Soul jammed a hand between them and began to furiously rub her clit. She screamed out her pleasure as he bent down to sink his razor-sharp teeth into the vanilla flesh of her neck, all the while ramming his hips into hers.

Finally, she came again, and this time, Soul could hold on no longer. She had always been tight and hot and wet, not matter how many times they made love, had sex, or fucked.

They lay there on the floor, clothes still on, Maka's skirt, blouse, and vest askew, her panties tossed into some dark corner. Soul's pants were undone, his hair slicked back with sweat, jacket gone, but his shirt hiked up to reveal tanned abdominal muscles that made Maka want to go for round two. But, there was something stopping her.

"Soul, did you know that Blaire's seen us resonate at night?"

"Really?" He asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, it means that we're feeling the same things in our dreams.

"I know what it means," He pouted. "I didn't sleep during every class."

Maka giggled and continued. "What did you dream about last night, Soul?"

Oh. OH. OH.

She giggled at his baffled expression.

"Looks like we've got the same kink, Soul."

He grinned his sharkish grin and rolled on top of her suddenly.

"Good, 'cause there's plenty more where that came from."

(A/N: Okey-dokey, I finally finished it! It took me FOREVER to figure out how to plausibly make them engage in scythe sex while still remaining in character. Maka never really struck me as the wanton mistress of the night who will just have sex like that in the middle of nowhere. SO, I decided that relationships were the only way to go. Thanks again! Next chapter will be up soon.)


	7. Chapter 7 Blood

_(A/N: Oh, look! A vampire AU! Yaaaayyy!)_

**_Blood_**

Soul Eater, his real name having escaped him after a few centuries of solitude, was a creature of the night. A blood-thirsty demon whose only mission in life was to steal the life blood from unaware victims as they slept in their beds, dreaming about happy things. He was no Incubus. He took pride in that fact. His desire for blood was deep-seated and carnal—not frivolous and purely sexual like the usual Incubus or Succubus.

No. He was a vampire. His thirst for the delicious burgundy fluid that flowed through every living being on earth was passionate and sensual. He drank because it got his heart beating again. And that in itself was all he really needed. Every human he drank from was held with the utmost care. He fed from them until he was full, leaving some still barely clinging to life and others fell into eternal sleep with his soft lips at his or her neck.

He did not discriminate against gender, for he preferred the blood of the Strong-Willed. Women with that particular flavor were hard to come by these days. He liked the very distinct spice that accompanied his favorite flavor of blood. It tasted like clove cigarettes and chili peppers, but carried off into a sort of sensual musk before ending on a delicious sweet note. It was something that reminded him of years past, a time period long-forgotten. Cinnamon milk prepared for him when his mother was still alive, the smell of his father's jacket, stolen sweets and the smell of a heavily wooded area.

Sometimes he felt that he always read too much into it. He was getting old, though his young, handsome face did not show it, and he was learning to appreciate softer, more fleeting things. He loved sitting in the park, these days, watching as people passed, ignoring him. They had no idea just how old he was and just how much he knew. Hell. Soul himself wasn't even sure just how old he was anymore. Age was a concept that had been lost to him for a very long time.

He enjoyed sitting in the park, though. People were interesting here, but nothing ever really changed. So, you could imagine his surprise when one day, when he had come across the bench he usually occupied, he saw a girl sitting there. She was plain, her ashy blond hair pulled into two pigtails on the sides of her head. She was perhaps the skinniest person Soul had seen in a long time, her legs toned and going on forever. Her head was inclined toward a raggedy 10-cent, second-hand book in her lap, her feet crossed at the ankles.

She glanced up at him as he approached her, skeptically eying his stark white hair and ruby eyes that so accurately matched his choice in drink. But, as quick as her head had twitched toward him, it was back to her book. He dropped down beside her, folding his long fingers in his lap (fingers that he was sure at some point in his childhood had been used for an instrument of some kind. A piano, perhaps?), and looked at her from the corner of his eye. She was probably of average height, he guessed. She wasn't really petite. Her face was round, yes, but she was long and gangly—An athlete's body.

"How long are you going to keep staring at me?" She asked suddenly, wrenching him from his thoughts. His eyes widened in shock and he sputtered softly before regaining his composure.

"S-sorry," He mumbled, moving his gaze to stare out at the green trees in the park before them.

She looked up from her book to stare at _him_ this time, her pig tails whipping around wildly. He looked at her then. And that was when he _smelled it._ Her scent hit him like a sledgehammer. There it was. The scent of clove cigarettes and chili peppers, the musk of a wet forest and the sweet aftertaste of sugar cookies and stolen candy. He could almost taste it. _Right there in front of him_. Cinnamon milk and his father's jacket.

She must of noticed his eyes widen considerably, for she asked suddenly, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," He coughed, his voice tight. Molten lava slid away from brilliant forest green and fixed on the trees in front of him once more.

She shrugged and went back to her book. Neither said a word.

.

.

.

Later that evening, when the rest of the city was fast asleep, dreaming pleasant dreams, Soul was pacing the streets outside of the apartment building he just _knew_ that the girl from earlier occupied. He could smell her. Her scent, common among his favorite flavor of blood, permeated the air outside the apartment complex. His enhanced olfactory senses could sniff out _exactly_ where her room was. He was furiously debating with himself on whether or not he should just float up to her level, climb in through her window, and drain her until he was full. But something was holding him back and he had no idea what it was.

Somehow, he beat back that unknown part of him that wanted to stay away and not drag her under with his insatiable thirst for her blood, and morphed into nearly invisible mist. He floated up to her balcony and slithered in through the crack between her window and its frame and materialized by her bedside. She was dressed in a plain tank-top and shorts, her clothing askew from her rolling around on the bed as she slept. Her legs were tangled in the sheets, her arms splayed about her, and for some reason, Soul found that a little too cute and endearing. He bent closer to her so that his lips were brushing softly against her neck, his warm breath fanning over her skin. She squirmed a little, but slept on.

Soul could smell her even better from this position and her scent was absolutely tantalizing. With a barely suppressed growl, he sunk his fangs into the vanilla flesh of her neck, drawing a quiet moan from her parted lips. He felt his whole body harden as the delicious gush of warm wetness dripped into his waiting mouth. It was better tasting than he had ever imagined. He hadn't had blood like this in a _long_ time, if not never. He found himself clutching desperately onto her thin frame as he fed from her. She was sort of awake, trapped in a state of aroused subconscious as he fed from her. It was a common side affect of being drained by a vampire, one that was only now, for the first time in Soul'd undead existence, becoming a problem. She let out another little moan, this time reaching up and running a hand through his snowy hair. He unintentionally let slip a grunt of pleasure before picking her up in his arms and holding her small body close to his as he finished his meal. He held her for a few minutes after words, gasping and panting into her hair. He was no Incubus. And he took pride on that fact. But never before had drinking blood been so...so..._erotic_. Her taste had been heaven and Soul wanted more of it. But he knew that if he drank any more, she would die. He decided to just bask there in her smell as she slept on. She was still curled around him and it was only when he heard her let out the most _delicious_ of noises before adjusting her hips did he realize just how much her surprisingly stimulating blood had affected him. He felt his hips thrust up into the apex of her thighs. She uttered another savory moan and he reciprocated with yet another jerk of his hips before realizing _exactly what he was doing _and quickly jumping away from her like a scalded cat. She flopped back onto her bed and lay there, not even moving as Soul stood pressed against the wall, his chest heaving with the effort to get away.

no.

no, no, no.

NO_NO_,_ no_, no, NO, nO.

Soul scrubbed his hands over his face before turning towards her window, Blood-red eyes darkened with a still-present lust slid accusingly toward her dozing shape before he leapt from her window and into the night. He told himself that he would never go back to that apartment building, but even he knew that was a lie.

_(A/N: All righty. Welp, this is gonna be part of a little series thing. If it get's longer than a three-shot, it will get it's own story. Until then, I can only ask for feedback. Does it deserve its own story? Is it actually good? ARE YOU SEXUALLY AROUSED BY SOUL'S BLOOD-FETISHES YET? Any and all criticisms help. Thank you for reading, next chapter will be up soon (hopefully it'll be the genderbent request.)_


	8. Chapter 8 Facial

**_Facial_**

Soul Eater Evans was a manly man. He was cool, he was suave, he was collected. He was fit, he was handsome, he was sexy. But, he seemed to be addicted to getting facials and his many female friends seemed a bit put off by this very strange desire to have wonderful skin. He had perfect skin already, tan and flawless, pulled tight over impressive muscles, contracting and pulsing to draw the attention of every female within a 50 feet radius.

It was just the fact that he was into _facials_ that weirded them out. Even nowadays, a man couldn't enjoy a deep-pore cleansing every now and then? He wasn't allowed to desire clean and pampered skin? He couldn't spend his hard earned cash on a seaweed wrap? Or even a hot stone spa day?

Well, these were the excuses that Soul kept telling himself. Even he knew exactly why he kept coming back to that academy of beauty.

"I'm Soul Evans. I'm here for my appointment," Soul said gruffly. He remembered when he had first started coming here. He had be absolutely mortified when he had made the appointment. But deep within himself, he knew that it had to be done.

"Maka's all ready for you in the back—room 5," The receptionist drawled without looking up. Then, she gave him a knowing wink as he walked past the front desk and found the room he was supposed to be in. He was a little excited. This time he had ordered a full body exfoliation. Full. _Body_.

He stepped through the door and saw her there, her tight little ass perched carefully on top of the massage bed, one impossibly long leg crossed over the other, a book in her hands. Soul cleared his throat awkwardly and she glanced up from her book at him. "You're late," She smirked. She hopped off from her seat and lightly tossed her book onto her bag in the corner. Soul gulped when she continued. "I'll leave so you can change." Then, she added as soon as she saw his shocked expression. "Unless you want me to stay here and watch?"

_Yes_, Soul want to say. _I really want you to watch. _"N-no, you can leave," He said. He cursed internally for letting himself become any less cool than he already was by coming here. She giggled and left the room, leaving Soul to figure out how he was going to get through this without popping a rather embarrassing boner. He sighed and stripped out of his leather jacket and tossing it unceremoniously into a corner. Then, he pulled off his clothes and folded them neatly before putting them on a chair. He debated on whether or not he should remove his boxers, but eventually decided against it. He sat himself on the massage chair and called toward the door, "You can come in now." He tried to keep the huskiness out of his voice, but judging by the little smirk on her face as she walked in, he had failed miserably.

She eyed his boxers and quirked an eyebrow, but rather than saying any thing, gestured for him to lie down. He did so, but didn't know quite what to do with his hands. So, he awkwardly folded them over his stomach.

Humming to herself, Maka flicked on the stereo, which immediately began to play soft, relaxing music, and draped a towel over his hips. Then, with a grunt, she managed to pull of his boxers in one go, all while managing to keep the towel from flying off and thus revealing his dirty bits. Soul let out a rather uncool yelp, but still managed to keep somewhat quiet.

"All righty, Soul," Maka smiled sweetly. "You ordered a full body exfoliation this time, so...where would you like me to start?"

"Eh..I don't know...wherever you feel like it, I guess." He shrugged.

She shrugged as well and reached for a bottle of what looked like organic oil. Soul felt his whole body tense as she squeezed a generous amount of what might as well have been lube into her palm. She rubbed her hands together and suddenly, she slapped her hands on his chest. He jumped in surprise but she ignored him. Then, she began to massage the oil into his pectoral muscles, making odd-sounding squishing noises that sent shivers up Soul's spine.

"That okay?" She asked, continuing her gentle ministrations.

Soul hummed in delight, his face and body relaxing finally. He may be nervous as fuck, but _damn_, this girl was skillful at her job.

And, it wasn't too long before he was lulled into a peaceful daze.

In retrospect, zoning out probably wasn't a good idea. Well, actually, Soul would disagree. This was a _fantastic_ idea. He thanked his lucky stars that he had never _ever_ listened to a single thing Black*Star had ever said about how much of a pussy Soul was for desiring this woman's skillful hands. He was thankful he never listened to those stupid chicks that followed him around—Why would he? Why would he listen to any of them when he has this _babe_ giving him a full-body exfoliation? Why would he—

Oh.

_Oh._

_._

_._

_._

Maka had given into temptation. She didn't really regret it. That was just the kind of girl she took pride in herself for being. But when her _very attractive_ client opened his ruby red to look at her, his eyes hooded with lust and yet somehow still wide with shock, she realized that she had indeed just licked a scorching trail up his quivering abdominal muscles and stopped just before she hit the sheen of massage oil on his chest.

She glanced back up at him from her position at his waistband and gazed into those hooded, crimson orbs, glassy with passion, his chest rising and falling with every pant. She wanted more of that expression.

She flicked out her pink tongue once more and watched in fascination as Soul jumped and let out a shaky breath, his eyes growing to dinner plate proportions. She giggled impishly before brushing her lips along the light dusting of snowy hair that peeked out from his low-riding boxers.

"Wh-what—" He tried, his voice huskier than he had anticipated.

She hushed him, before tossing the towel somewhere across the room and hooking her thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and tugging them down to reveal his already half-hard cock

She eyed it appreciatively, licking her lips and Soul tried not to mewl pathetically in excitement. Oh God, oh God, oh God! What was he doing?! Why was he letting her do this?! He came here for a facial-thing and perhaps a bit of masturbation material, but—Jesus _fuck!_ He never expected this! He'd been lusting after this girl for such a long time, wanted to simultaneously fuck her brains and have a snarky conversation with her, but now here she was, staring at his somewhat flaccid manhood and looking like she thought he was the most delicious thing in the world.

"—ight, Soul," She cooed.

"Wha—" He slurred, still trying to process the situation.

"I _said,_ Hold on tight, Soul!" She hissed. Then, in the next moment, before he could even reply, she had popped him in her mouth and began sucking furiously.

It seemed that her mission today was to get him to cum as soon as possible, and man, did Soul figure _that _out quick. As soon as her lips landed on his cock, his back arched off of the massage table, his head slamming into the vinyl cushion, ruby eyes rolling wildly in their sockets. If he was half-hard before, he certainly wasn't any longer. It was like his dick was carved from stone and Maka knew exactly how to make him get even harder. Soul was struggling with all his might not to just let his hips piston into her will mouth. His hands were clenched into fists, gripping the massage chair.

"Ma...Maka...Stop. Oh my—_fuck—_I'm gonna...Seriously. I'm seriously gonna cu~UUU_UUUuM."_

His last word came out garbled and whiny, but only because maka had immediately upped the ante. Her lips formed a vacuum around his cock and Soul let a long, drawn out "oh" escape his lips, his head lolling to the side, toes curling and his fingers gripping the towel that separated his sweaty back from the slippery vinyl. His hips arched up of their own accord and he could hear Maka gag at the sudden intrusion. He was about to apologize profusely, well, at least as profusely as was humanly possible for him at the moment, but he was immediately thrown back into a state of subconscious arousal as she took him deeper. Her emerald eyes watched him intensely as he jerked and bucked off the massage table, muttering garbled phrases that were a mix of her name, a few curse words and what sounded to her like and archaic form of Italian.

And then, suddenly, Soul's world exploded. Light danced behind his eyelids. He didn't notice the absence of Maka's warm mouth as his cock twitched and launched rope after rope of cum into the air.

Once he had (literally) come to his senses, Soul propped himself on his elbows and looked at Maka. He was mortified. Her face and strands of her hair were coated in his spunk. She smiled at him and licked the white stuff from her lips, giving him a saucy grin. She reached for a towel and wiped her face before saying, "Well that was a bit ironic," She said.

"huh?"

"You just gave me a facial when you are the one paying _me_ to give _you _one."

"Oh, well, I guess I'll just have to come back, then," Soul answered.

There. It was out there. Soul would be back and now Maka knew it just as much as he did. She smiled.

_(A/N: Okay, I honestly have no idea what the fuck just happened. I think I wrote a crack fic. Oh, okay, whatever. Soul, you dirty, dirty boy. I think you've corrupted me.)_


	9. Chapter 9 I want Candy

_(A/N: Okay, this is a drabble, not even worth being called a new chapter, but I couldn't get this idea out of my head. So, here ya go!)_

**_I Want Candy_**

Soul Eater Evans had a secret. He really liked a certain song. It was a pop song, a genre that he normally would not be caught dead listening to. But right now, he was cooking dinner and Maka wasn't home yet and he could listen to it and it was _glorious._

_"I know a girl who's tough but sweet_

_She's so fine, she can't be beat_

_She's got everything that I desire_

_Sets the summer sun on fire"_

He stirred the pot of marinara sauce so that it wouldn't burn and stick to the sides. His hips swayed in time with the song as he stirred the red liquid.

_"I want candy_

_I want candy_

_I want candy_

_I want candy"_

Soul's shark-like teeth gnashed a little, a habit he had been unable to stop since the day he was born. He dropped a few meat balls into the sauce pot.

_"Go to see her when the sun goes down_

_Ain't no finer girl in town_

_You're my girl, what the doctor ordered_

_So sweet, you make my mouth water"_

He wasn't gonna lie. This song always made him think of Maka. Then again, everything made him think of Maka.

_"I want candy_

_I want candy_

_I want candy_

_I want candy"_

He reached out and grabbed the handles on the pot that was boiling the spaghetti and dropped it into the strainer sitting in the sink. He let the water drain away as he finished up the sauce.

_"Candy on the beach, there's nothing better_

_But I like candy when it's wrapped in a sweater_

_Some day soon I'll make you mine_

_Then I'll have candy all the time"_

And it was at that precise moment that Maka walked into the apartment. Soul hadn't noticed her, his music was too loud.

_"I want candy_

_I want candy_

_I want candy_

_I want candy"_

Maka stifled a giggle, but still snuck up behind him, watching with fascination as his hips swayed with the music, an apron tied around his waist.

_"Candy in the morning time,_

_Candy in the hot sunshine._

_Candy baby can't you see,_

_All I want is your candy!_

She stopped walking just behind him. He hadn't noticed her yet.

_Candy in the morning time,_

_Candy in the hot sunshine._

_Candy baby can't you see,_

_All I want is your candy!_

_(Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey)_

_All I want is your candy!_

_(Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey)_

_All I want is your candy!"_

_SMACK!_

Soul yelped as Maka's hand came crashing down on his dancing rear. He almost dropped the spatula, but caught it just in time, splattering his hands in spaghetti sauce in the process. He turned to look at his smirking meister with wide eyes.

"I didn't know you were such a good dancer, Soul Eater."

He gulped.


	10. Chapter 10 Holland, 1945

_(A/N: this is a sort of song fic based off of the song "Holland, 1945" by Neutral Milk Hotel. I listened to it one day and immediately thought of Soul, so I wrote a fic about it! Please listen to the song, it will help you understand this a little better. It's a sad song, but happy at the same time. If that makes any sense. Miss Fu, your birthday present is coming up! Enjoy, guys!)_

**_Holland, 1945_**

Maka became a piano teacher after Soul died. He had taught her enough of it in the many, many years they had spent together. She was frail and old now and Soul had been gone for a good seven years, peaking on his eighth. Maka had come to terms with his passing, for she was a strong woman and she could live on like she knew Soul would have wanted her to. Sometimes, she would lie in her bed at night and think of him and all the years they spent as partners, then as lovers, then as husband and wife. She loved his shark teeth and his eyes that were the color of rose petals...

They were long retired when Soul passed away. He was 85 and she 84 and he had been sleeping on his favorite arm chair while Maka tended to the garden. Their cat was curled in his lap and there were pictures of their many children and grandchildren scattered about. Nothing had really changed about Soul. He still had his silvery hair and crimson eyes, so bright with life that it came as a shock even to him when he felt death take him. He didn't want to leave, for he loved Maka with his entire being and leaving her alone would be like ripping his own heart out. But she was a strong woman and he knew it, even as he felt himself slip away.

Now, Maka was living in Spain—a place that she had felt herself being drawn to a few months after Soul's death. She had scraped up a small job as a piano teacher for children, teaching afternoon classes to boys and girls of all ages. She carried on like this for the seven (almost eight) years since the day Soul left. And she enjoyed her job. It kept a little bit of Soul alive within her and her students.

Until one day...

The little boy had black hair and blue eyes, not snowy hair and red eyes. He was cute and fragile looking, not hardened by years of labor. He was polite, not sarcastic and teasing. But his smile was different. It quirked up at the corners in a wide grin like the smile she so fondly remembered. No, his mouth wasn't full of razor sharp teeth, and no, there wasn't any drool involved. But for a moment, she swore she saw roses in his eyes. He sat down on the piano bench to begin their lesson and Maka lead him in a beginner's tune, careful of his tiny fingers that were long and elegant just like the ones her fingers used to entwine with. He picked it up quickly, his crooked grin evident on his face as he smashed the keys and added his own spin on things and it was all so familiar. He was at least seven (almost eight) and there were little, tiny, almost invisible things that Maka noticed. Little things that made her want to cry.

"Did I do good, Mrs. Evans?" The little boy grinned.

"Yes, you did," Maka said softly.

"Great! 'Cause only cool guys can play the piano like me!"

Maka started crying, then.


	11. Chapter 11 Little Red Riding Hood

_(A/N: FINISHED! WOOOOH Happy birthday, Miss Fu, you sly dog, you! I hope EVERYONE enjoys this chapter.)_

**Little Red**

Maka Albarn—Granddaughter extraordinaire. She didn't know what she had expected when she had first waltzed through the woods, delivering cookies to the old biddy. She was eight and as independent as ever, Her favorite red hoodie much too big for her. Her only living grandmother (in this country at least) was her father's mother and honestly, she had assumed a "like-mother-like-son" situation.

But, Maka should have expected something _completely_ different. Her grandmother was a snarky old lady, Scottish and mean. She did not take shit from anybody, Maka's father included. Whenever Maka showed up at her little cottage in the woods, cookie basket in hand, she was promised embarrassing stories about her father and a cup of coffee—something her father would never let her have.

Now, Maka was 18-going-on-19 and her grandmother was an ancient, gnarled old thing still living in the dark center of the woods.

One day, Maka was riding her bike through the woods, basket hanging from the handle bars, pig-tails flapping in the wind with her over-sized red sweater. Unfortunately, she had only grown in height over the years, her skinny and lithe body up for any sort of athletic challenge.

She arrived at her grandmother's cottage and leapt from her bicycle, its wheels covered in mud and foliage. Maka, calm and collected even under the dark shade of the trees around her, walked up to the front door and rapped sharply on the wet, rotting wood of the front door. There was a second's pause, and then the door was flung open. A short and squat woman, half of Maka's height and with hair like fairy floss stood in the doorway. She was in surprisingly good shape for a woman of 94. She did not want or need a walker of any kind and still frequented the over-grown garden outside the little house.

Maka was about to exclaim how happy she was too see her grandmother again when the old woman circled a firm and wrinkly hand around her forearm and dragged the girl inside. Maka shrieked in surprise just as the door slammed shut behind her.

"Cannae stay outside fer too long, girlie," Her grand mother hissed from between thin lips.

"Wha?" Maka gasped, stumbling her way to a little armchair that had unofficially been declared her own over the past decade.

"Them Faerie folk be actin' oop again, lov."

Maka cringed. It wasn't like she didn't believe in "Faerie folk"—her grandmother had practically raised her on superstition. Instead, she rather feared the consequences of being in the forest during a time when the "Faerie folk be actin' oop again."

"I tell yer Da that he should keep ye fram comin' oop 'ere fer a while, but that great lummox dannae listen to me."

"That asshole," Maka grumbled from her position on the couch.

"Aye, I couldn' agree more. But it be best if ye dannae stay 'ere long, girlie. The Faeries will surely com fer someone as young and in tune with the ferrest as ye."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Maka asked, looking at her grandmother warily.

"I may 'ave made a mistake when I told ye all them sterries, lass. Ye know so much aboot 'em now and they know just 'ow dangerous tha' can be fer 'em."

Maka sighed. "I better leave then," She said. She definitely didn't want to be around when the Faeries noticed her presence.

"No, wait! Ye need protection!" Her grandmother cried, scrambling for her trunk in the corner of the room.

"S'okay, Gramma. I'm wearing red." She said, referring to the red sweatshirt her grandmother had made for her to repel faeries.

"Tha' might not be enough this time, girlie," Her grandmother said as she pulled out a chain wth a little stone on the end. The stone seemed to change color in the light, shifting from the darkest red to the palest blue.

"Take mah Faerie Stone, lass. It will help ye," Her grandmother said, tying the necklace around Maka's neck.

"Right," Maka answered. She knew what it meant when her grandmother freaked out about Faeries running amok in the forest. It meant "get out" and that was exactly what she was planning on doing.

She nodded at her grandmother and bolted out the door, her grandmother howling after her, "Be swift and canny, girlie! Dannae le' 'em catch ye!"

.

.

.

Swift and canny, she was. As for paying attention to where she was going? Not so much.

And so, Maka Albarn ended up pacing in a clearing, her bike propped against a large tree. She clutched the flashing stone around her neck, dappled green light piercing through the forest canopy turning it a odd purple color. It was getting darker and all she had to eat was a granola bar sitting in her basket—_which was at her grandmother's cottage._

However, it seemed like her charm was working. Well…for the most part.

A shape flitted through the trees surrounding Maka's clearing as she sat down on a mossy rock to think. Red eyes glared at her from the bushes. Snowy fur shifted silently with a ripple of muscle and sinew.

"Well, well, well," A voice said. It was deep and rumbly, like a growl, or maybe even a purr. "What have we here?"

Maka stumbled off of her seat and spun around, fists raised to protect herself if need be. Just as she turned, a tall shape stepped from the shadows, snowy hair and crimson eyes shocking Maka into silence. A man. Tall and foreboding, wearing a black leather jacket over a t-shirt and jeans. His feet were bare, stepping silently over undergrowth

"Little Red Riding hood seems to have stumbled into my territory," The man said. He took a step closer and Maka stumbled backwards. "I can smell Faerie on you, little one. I can taste the magik pouring from your soul.

"Who the heck are you?!" Maka said, fists still raised to fight as she took another step back and he advanced.

"I am Soul Eater, little one. We've been looking for you for a long time now."

"Who are "we"?!" She cried frantically as she tried not to trip over a stone protruding from the ground.

"Why, Faerie folk of course," The man growled, lips stretching over fantastically sharp fangs.

Maka gasped as her back hit up against a tree. "But the stone—"

"Mmmm…Oh, yeah. I remember that thing," The man said, finally coming close enough for her to feel his heat as he placed his hands against the tree on either side of her head. "Been a pain in my ass for centuries."

"Centuries?!"

"Oh, you smell _nice_," The man said, leaning in and brushing his nose against the skin of throat. "You smell like _wolf_."

"WHAT?!" Maka cried, pushing him away. She screeched her shock when he just came back again at a blinding speed. "I do _not_ smell like_ wolf_!"

"Yeah. You do. But even better, you smell like _alpha_," He growled the last word into her ear and she shivered. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for you?"

"H-how long?" She asked meekly, long since giving up on pushing him away. Now, she was trying to melt into the trunk of the tree behind her. Boy, was that working just great.

"_Too long_," He murmured. And then Maka felt something warm and wet snake it's way along the shell of her ear.

Maka whimpered.

"What's your name?" The man called Soul Eater growled into her ear as he pressed his hard body closer to hers.

"Maka Albarn," She said softly, compelled by something she could not define.

"Mmm, what a nice name," He chuckled. Then, he nibbled on her ear with his sharp fangs and Maka could only gasp hot in his ear, something he apparently approved of because he was doing it again, his body suddenly slamming hard against her as he thrust his whole being toward her center.

He suddenly grabbed her thigh, lifting her leg up and slinging it around his hip. She felt what could only be sharp claws digging into the bare flesh of her thigh and then suddenly his hands were on her ass and he was lifting her hips up against his. He growled nonsense in her ear. And then she heard something that made her shudder against him. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard, little one. I've waited too long for a mate, girl. I've waited too long and now I'm gonna fuck you and mark you and you'll be mine."

At his words, Maka slung her other leg over his hips and he slammed her harder against the tree trunk. Maka moved to rip off his jacket as he swiveled his hips against hers, the motion bring his rock-hard cock to rub against her center. Maka moaned loudly, head tossed back and Soul Eater dived in to ravage her pale neck. "My, what big teeth you have," Maka gasped.

"All the better to eat you up, my dear," He growled.

Maka moaned again when he bit down hard on the junction where shoulder met neck. She would have a scar there, but for now she did not care.

Her hands tangled in his hair and brushed over his ears "My, what big ears you have," She smirked.

"All the better to hear you scream," He whispered as one hand grabbed her ass and the other palmed an aching breast. Maka did not scream, but she shouted her pleasure anyway.

Her fingers curled in the dark fabric of his shirt and he grunted as she hissed through her teeth and ripped it off of him. He almost dropped her with the force of her undressing him, but it didn't matter because this girl was flexible and her mouth was on his neck. She bit him too, though her mark didn't draw blood, and he let out a shaky groan as her blunt, human teeth dragged their way across his chest where she latched onto a nipple and teased and licked and bit.

"Little Red Riding Hood, you dirty girl," He said, his voice a mix between a chuckle and a throaty moan. She responded with an especially hard bite and he retaliated with an especially hard thrust of his hips. He ripped her sweater off as she gyrated against him, grunting something about how he "hated the color red."

"You _are_ a faerie. Faeries hate red," She panted, raking her nails down his bare chest.

He moved his hips harder and faster against hers, his lips pressing feverishly against hers, teeth burying in her plump lower lip. He pulled her away from the tree, her legs still locked tight around his waist and lowered her to the ground. Maka watched him with bated breath as he ripped off her shorts and panties in one fluid movement, placing her on her hands and knees before him. He pulled his hard cock out of his pants and lunged into her in one hard thrust.

Maka screamed in both pleasure and pain as Soul bent over her kneeling body, moaning through variations of his name as he took her hard from behind.

"I'm going to make you mine, little one," he said again. And Maka moaned her approval.

If there was one thing she was aware of, it was how fast things had happened. It was a desperate fuck in the middle of the woods and the fact that this man wasn't even a man but a _faerie _seemed totally irrelevant in this circumstance.

She was also dimly aware of the fact that she was rocketing toward her climax and that this wolf man was not far behind. His thrusts had turned frantic and disjointed, his breathing hard and hot in her ear. She moaned at the sheer feeling of his cock pistoning within her. Her nails dug into the earth as he whispered her name over and over again, bucking harder with each syllable.

Maka's peak hit her hard and by surprise when he snaked a hand underneath her bra to fondle a bare tit and she screamed out Soul Eater's name as she came, ash blonde hair flipping over her head as she tossed it back in abandon. Soul pumped once, twice, grunting hard each time, before howling his way into his own climax. Together they collapsed onto the earthen floor, Maka down for the count.

.

.

.

When Maka awoke, she lay at the edge of the forest, her house in sight, her clothes skewed, but back on her body. She was about to doubt the reality of her experience when she felt something wet lap at her cheek. She looked up just in time to see a _humongous_ wolf with fur as white as snow and eyes like twin rubies flash toward the trees. He looked back at her and the look in his eyes promised something. Promised a return and a belonging that Maka knew she would always come back for.


	12. Chapter 12 Jealous?

****_(A/N: I can't remember who, but SOMEBODY asked me to make a jealous!Soul Chapter. So WHOOP! THERE IT IS!)_

**Jealous?**

Maka is probably around 500% done with Soul's shit right now. She glares at him from across the familiar, lecture-hall-style classroom and he glares right back, crimson eyes burning holes in her. She harumphs and sticks her nose in the air, turning away from him before looking down at her meticulous notes. He growls on the other side of the room and his fists clench on the desk. Maka doesn't really know the people she's sitting by, but she would rather be with strangers than Soul right now.

It wasn't like he had done anything specific. She would have punched him in the face to be done with it a long time ago if it were only one thing. It was more like Soul had been acting like a grouchy _asshole _lately, even more so than usual, and Maka was pretty sure that merely punching him wouldn't completely satisfy her. It was for his own good, really. If she was near him at all for the rest of the day, she'd probably bop him real good the next time he opened up his stupid, sharky mouth.

She is snapped out of her thoughts when she hears the distinctive drawl of professor Stein as he spins idly on his wheeled office chair. She shoots Soul another heated glare before she looks down to the nutty professor below.

"All right kids," The grey-haired man said softly, his voice deep and calm as usual. "We're going to start a project today. Work on a presentation on the science of soul resonance and turn it in by the start of next week."

Maka scribbled down the specifics of the project and she could feel Soul's eyes on her the entire time. She would definitely _not_ look at that _loser_. Then, she heard the words "find a partner" and couldn't help but flinch. She felt Soul's glare intensify and his soul prod her's from across the room. It didn't have quite the "forgive me" attitude she had wanted. So, she tapped the shoulder of a boy with light brown hair and calm, yellow eyes. He looked up in surprise and Maka smiled sweetly at him. "Hey, want to be my partner?"

.

.

.

Soul nearly imploded as he watched Maka smile at the strange boy. He looked a little like her, Soul mused amidst his fury. He dressed a little nerdy, what with his DWMA sweater over a white, button up shirt. But there were things about him (his shirt was wrinkly and untucked, his hair messy and ruffled) that were so boyish and undeniably _male_ that Soul felt his gut clench in fear. There was _another guy_ sitting where he should be sitting. There was another guy touching her. It was merely the polite shaking of hands, but Soul saw only skin on skin and his blood was boiling.

Black Star punched him on his shoulder and shouted something about being partners, but Soul only mumbled a grunt of assent, his eyes never leaving his meister and the strange boy he had never really seen before. Well, that was a lie, he had seen him around, hanging out with a very odd mix of friends. The strange boy seemed popular, however, something that Soul wasn't. And even if Soul _were_ popular, he certainly wasn't outgoing and that was something the stranger definitely seemed to be.

He honestly didn't even recall what he had said to Maka that made her so mad at him. He had probably just called her "tiny-tits" one too many times, but it still felt like a trivial matter compared to the heartbreaking scene of her laughing with that blondish dude. That boy was everything Soul wasn't and it made him feel so inadequate, even as she shot him an especially icy glare as she left, new partner in tow.

He followed Black Star and Tsubaki out of the classroom, distracting himself with the obnoxious blue of his friend's hair. But then his thoughts trailed back to Maka again when Tsubaki grabbed Black Stars hand and squeeze in a comforting gesture. It was probably just an attempt to quiet his useless ramblings, but Soul was nevertheless reminded of how he often held his own partner's hand and how it had held the hand of another mere moments ago.

He sighed to himself and continued after his friends, thinking of anything besides a certain pig-tailed meister.

.

.

.

His name was Nathan, Maka had learned, but he insisted that she call him Thane, so she did. She had also discovered that he was quite diligent and serious when it came to schoolwork despite the fact that he seemed so popular. Maka had never thought it possible to have time for a social life and a decent GPA, but it seemed that this kid _made_ time. She also discovered that Thane had an _interesting_ gaggle of friends, ones that she never thought would mix with someone like him. She felt like a judgmental, stereotyping bitch every time she was proven wrong, but hey. She was learning and that was all that mattered to her.

They parted ways at the end of the school day, with him getting into the back of a crimson 1968 Cadillac to join three other people she had never met. The color of the car made her think of Soul's eyes, but she pushed those thoughts aside.

"Maka," Thane said, "I'd like to introduce you to my friends. This is Seven," He said, gesturing to the tall, dark-haired man at the wheel. He puffed grumpily on a cigarette and nodded a greeting. "Caleb," Thane continued, jabbing a thumb at a grinning boy with pink hair and multiple piercings. He waved idly, one hand wrapped around a gameboy that steadily pumped out pokemon theme music. "And Lake," Thane finished, pointing at a scrawny girl with blue hair and round sun glasses.

"Hey," the girl said, smiling.

"Hi," Maka waved in reply.

"Hurry up, Thane. Say your goodbyes. We need to pick up the twins from football and Friday from art class," Caleb said loudly, not looking up from his game. He reminded Maka a little of Black Star, especially when he kicked the front seat and Seven whirled around to punch Caleb in the arm, growling something about "damaged upholstery".

"All right, all right," Thane said, laughing At Caleb's pained expression as he rubbed his wounded shoulder. "Well, Maka, I guess I'll talk to you later. We'll meet up at your house tomorrow?"

"Yup! We can figure out the specifics of the project then," Maka replied, sobering under the topic of school projects.

"Cool," Thane grinned. Then the group of oddly-matched friends sped away down the street with a few goodbyes.

.

.

.

When Maka returned home, she found Soul sitting on the couch, chewing on his fingernails with a ferocity.

"Soul!" She hissed, gently smacking his hand from his mouth. "Your teeth are too sharp for that! You'll bleed!"

Soul did not reply. He merely looked at her with an odd expression, one that Maka could not place. She sighed and walked away, calling over her shoulder. "If you think _you_ are the only one who should be mad, then you can make _yourself_ dinner. Her bedroom door slammed shut behind her.

Soul felt like crying.

.

.

.

After school the next day, Maka returned home, new lab partner in tow. She opened the door once more and found Soul sulking there again.

"Is this your lab partner?" He asked gruffly. He stood up from his place on the couch, straightening to his full height to try and be intimidating. He was indeed taller than the new-comer, but...

"Dude, you can try. But my brother's six-foot-seven and twice your weight in muscle. I'm used to it," Thane chuckled. He was trying to be joking and friendly, but the scowl on Soul's face told him it wasn't working. He glanced at Maka and she in turn shot a glare at Soul.

"Soul, you better be nice to him or I won't cook you dinner tonight either!"

How dare she?! Did she think that was all he cared about?! DINNER? Soul opened his mouth to shout, but Maka quickly saw it coming. Unfortunately for Soul, he did not see her retaliation.

Maka and Thane left him curled on the carpet, felled by an infamous Maka-chop.

Soul regained consciousness to the sound of whispers and giggling. He heard Maka say something about colors choices for a poster, followed by a suggestion from Thane. There it was again, that sensation in his gut that felt like a pot boiling over. Soul scrubbed his hands over his face and moved from the carpet to the couch to think.

He'd been carrying a torch for his meister for years, really. Perhaps longer, if he could ever admit it to himself. He didn't know what he should do. Maybe ask her out on a date? Perhaps take her for a romantic drive on his bike? Oh. Maybe profess his undying love and proceed to make passionate love to her the nearest, available flat surface. Yeah, that one sounded like a good plan. Definitely.

He got up from the couch and walked over to her room.

"Maka?" He asked softly, knocking on her doorframe. The two inhabitants looked up from their neat and meticulously halfway-prepared poster board and Soul creaked the door open just wide enough to poke his head through.

"Yes, Soul?" Maka asked warily.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Maka mumbled something to Thane and then she giggled and opened the door so she could slip through it and join Soul in the hallway. He felt his blood boil. What, had that guy said something to her? Did he make a joke? _Was he flirting with her?!_ Soul contained himself only by biting the inside of his cheek. Though in hindsight, that was a bad idea too. He swallowed the tiny bit of blood that formed there.

"What is it, Soul?" Maka sighed.

"I want to know if you can come home without your lab partner tomorrow, I want to talk to you alone."

"We're alone, now," Maka said, gesturing to the space around them with the cock of a hip and the swish of a hand.

Soul succeeded in not getting distracted by the flutter of her skirt against her thighs and said, "Please, Maka?"

"Fine," She grumbled. "But you better not start acting like a total dick," She said, jabbing a finger at him accusingly, a tiny smile on her lips as she stepped back into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

He really hoped he could manage that.

**TBC**

_(A/N: MWAHAHAHAHAHA I'VE MADE A TWO PART STORY. Doesn't that "__**TBC**__" just make you cringe? I shall have the next installment up soon, perhaps interrupted by some good, ol' fashioned PWP.)_


	13. Chapter 13 Quiet

**_Quiet_**

"Maka, Oh _God_," He hiccuped loudly in the darkness

"Shut up, Soul," There was a hiss, her hips bucking and squelching in the darkness as she rode against him. Soul's hand gripped her bottom tight, preventing him from dropping her, his pelvis pinning her to the wall with each thrust, her legs wrapped tight around his waist.

He opened his mouth to moan loudly, but Maka slanted her lips against his seamlessly, silencing his voice as she gave a particularly hard flick of her hips. Soul grunted in response, large, long fingered hands slamming against the wall of the broom closet to keep himself from falling.

"We need to be quiet," Maka whispered, giving a little gasp as he bucked up sharply against her.

"How come you're not even affected by this?!" He moaned, face glowing red in the darkness, matching his eyes perfectly. He hiccuped and whimpered as she gave a particularly hard tweak to his nipple in response.

There was near silence for a while, only Soul's labored breathing and the squelch of their hips against each other as he moved hard and fast inside her. Then, she spoke. "Do you feel me, Soul? Feel how wet I am? How wet I am for _you_?"

His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, another loud whimper threatening to bubble up in his throat. She pressed her lips against his in a sloppy, silencing kiss once more. And then she whispered, "You need to be quiet Soul, or someone will hear us. I...Oh, God," And then she came, her insides quivering around him, her eyes rolling back into her head. Soul watched transfixed as her back arched, breasts displayed with her bra pushed crudely above them. He was suddenly afraid. His orgasm was _right there_ and she (as always) was correct—if someone heard them, fucking in the broom closet, they'd be done for. And so, letting out a quiet, completely and utterly uncool mewl, the quiet before the storm, he bit down hard onto her shoulder, effectively silencing his roar of triumph.

They slid down to the floor, wrapped around each other, clothes askew, rattling bottles of cleaning solution and utensils in a quiet murmur as they descended.

"I'm glad you could be quiet, Soul. Maybe I should give you a reward when we get home.

* * *

_(A/N: Yo, so basically, I am really sorry I haven't updated in such a long time. Here's a quick little drabble to keep you satisfied (hopefully) while I figure out how in the bloody fuck I am gonna continue this jealousy thing. Thanks for your patience, you beautiful, wild things.)_


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